


Malfunction

by Walutahanga



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Crack Treated Seriously, For Want of a Nail, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-13 21:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15373581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walutahanga/pseuds/Walutahanga
Summary: The Winter Soldier is a weapon and weapons malfunction all the time.(Or; how messing with your subordinates to prove a point is a poor management strategy).





	Malfunction

**Author's Note:**

> So this is based on a crack theory of mine that can be found here on Tumblr: 
> 
> https://scrumptiousconnoisseurdreamer.tumblr.com/post/175810322703/so-whos-rubys-father-again. 
> 
> Basically the idea is that Ruby, Whitehall's precocious subject for his Destroyer of Worlds program, was the daughter of Bucky Barnes. Based on the fact they're both super-competent assassins/fighters with a habit of catching round weapons mid-flight. 
> 
> You can consider this fic a missing scene, or the opening of an alternate timeline if you want. Either way it works.

After the mission, the Winter Soldier is brought back to a lab. This is not unusual. What is unusual is the lab technicians hovering over a crying baby and a grim-faced young woman in an Air-Force uniform who glares at the Soldier.  

"What is _he_ doing here?" She demands of the scientist in charge.

"I need fresh blood samples for comparison," the man replies, a small pleasant smile hovering about his mouth while his eyes remain flat and cold. 

"Do it somewhere else. He shouldn't even be in this room." 

The Soldier doesn't think she's ranked very high (Hydra remains very much the domain of the white male) which makes this a curious show of disrespect. Something, he thinks, has her rattled badly enough to challenge a superior. 

"I prefer it," the lead scientist says coolly. "Sit there, please." This is addressed to the Soldier, who sits where indicated as a nervous lab tech comes over to draw blood. The baby cries in the background; a faintly annoying distraction that sets the Soldier’s nerves on edge. 

Once the lab tech is done, the Soldier waits for his next order. The lead scientist is talking soothingly to the woman, who keeps looking over at the baby. 

"...calm yourself," he's saying. "I would never let any harm come to the Destroyer of Worlds."

"No one controls everything," the woman retorts. "That thing is an animal."

"You should be more respectful. The Soldier is our most valuable asset." 

"It's a weapon, and weapons malfunction all the time." 

"Indeed." A pause, then the lead scientist turns to the Soldier. "Would you like a closer look?" 

"Sir - " the woman protests, and falls silent as the scientist raises a finger warningly. 

"Well?" He says, smiling pleasantly at the Soldier. The Soldier doesn't know how to respond. 

"Is that an order, sir?" 

"If you like." 

The Soldier reads the warning. This is a display of power; he's merely the pawn here to demonstrate how little say the woman has. 

He stands and walks over to the table. He looks down, a little to the left of the table, away from the screaming baby. The floor tiles are grubby. 

"Do you know how to safely hold a baby?" The scientist asks him. The Soldier nods. "Then pick her up." 

"Sir, please," the woman says, pleading now. 

The Soldier looks down at the baby, which is squalling, face bright pink, tiny fingers curled into angry fists. Probably cold, he thinks, and doesn't know where the thought comes from. She has blonde hair so pale it's nearly white, fine as fairy floss. 

He supports the head with one hand, slipping the other beneath the small body to lift. Muscle memory kicks in as he braces her against his chest, one hand cradling her head in case she tries to throw herself backwards. The baby's cries become louder for a few seconds, then trail off fitfully. Nothing wrong with her then. Just wanted to be held. 

"See?" the scientist says. "All under control. You should have more faith." 

"Yes, sir," the woman says, sounding strangled. "I'm sorry, sir." 

"Your dedication to the future of Hydra is admirable, but you must always remember self-discipline. That was what you were lacking at school, am I right?" 

"Yes, sir. I will remember in future, sir." 

The baby starts gnawing toothlessly at the Soldier's thumb. He shifts his grip so that she's not chewing on gun powder residue. He keeps his eyes on the wall. Maybe if he doesn't ask for the order, it won't come. 

"Good. Because if you can't, there are others who will. This job is too important to allow any weaknesses to take root." 

"Yes, sir." Whispered, cowed. 

The scientist turns back to the Soldier. "What do you think of her?" 

 Ghostly words float through the Soldier's mind; _you should be very proud, ma'am... congratulations on a healthy baby...good thing she takes after her ma, right?..._

"Irrelevant, sir." 

"Don't be too certain. You're holding your replacement." The baby is still gumming at the joint of the Soldier's thumb, expression fatuously contented. The Soldier's thoughts must show because the scientist's smile widens. "Not yet, of course. She has a long way to go. But in fifteen, maybe twenty years you will be obsolete. We have very high hopes for Ruby." 

"Yes, sir." The Soldier wonders if he becomes obsolete, they will finally stop bringing him out of cryo. 

The scientist turns away, which seems to be a signal that the Soldier can give the baby to the woman, who nearly lunges in her eagerness to get her daughter away from him. Her expression as she cradles the baby is one of terrified relief and for a second he almost remembers something; a bedraggled woman on a battlefield weepily thanking him as he handed her child back to her. 

"...she's alright, ma'am." The words slide out of their own accord. "She's not hurt."  

He was not meant to say that. The woman stares up at him, eyes as wide and startled as if a dog had stood up on its hind-legs and wished her good morning.  He can sense the scientist's gaze narrowing on him.

"Soldier, step away," he says, a new sharpness replacing the former complacency. The Soldier realises his hand is on the woman's shoulder, metal fingers pressing in a little too hard. 

One of the lab techs has hit the alarm, more guards coming in the door. The scientist holds up a hand, stopping them. 

"Don't do anything to provoke him. Hale, don't move." 

The words seem to come from far away. The Soldier’s attention is on the woman who's white with terror, her arms curled shield-like around the baby. "She's really something," says whatever ghost has taken over his vocal cords. "You should be proud." 

"...thank you," she says after a moment, voice shaking. "Her name is Ruby."

Ruby. Strange name, for the Destroyer of Worlds. But maybe appropriate. A deceptively pretty, flashy name for something born within crushing pressure. 

The Soldier's gaze shifts from the woman, to the waiting guards and fear-paralysed scientists, trying to work out what he's supposed to be doing.

"She doesn't have your eyes," he says. It feels important somehow. 

"No." Another hesitation. "She has her father's eyes." 

Father. Another word that seems important. It's like trying to claw through mist, digging up memories that don't (shouldn't) exist. Dinner on the table. Hand on his shoulder. Well done, son. 

He forces back the fog, as he always does. Mission first, everything else second. Straight line from A to B, no matter what you have to wreck in between. 

He focuses on the woman again, consciously relaxing his grip on her shoulder.

"What is the mission?" He asks. 

"Good, Hale," the lead scientist whispers. "Tell him to stand down. We'll get him back into containment. "

The Soldier doesn't look at him. He waits for the woman. Hale. Who's staring up at him, lips parted in surprise and slow-dawning realisation. 

"What is the mission?" He repeats. Ruby is whining, small hands curling into her mother's uniform. 

He sees Hale make her decision a split second before she speaks. 


End file.
